


Until Then, My Dear

by HaylesAtwellington



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Miscarriages, PTSD, Perfect married babies, Pregnancy, Sadness, Steggy - Freeform, The war never ends, Thompson is an asshole, Torture, WWII, happiness, peggy is badass always, steggy babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-09 02:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10402239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaylesAtwellington/pseuds/HaylesAtwellington
Summary: Peggy and Steve have already lost far more than they bargained for to the years of war. Hydra is still at large and coming for them with fury like no other when they find themselves wrapped up in a mission that could make or break the future of the war effort. (Lots of things happen and summaries are hard. Just read it please lol)





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing she remembered as she was pulled from captivity was cold autumn air and pain. She shivered as the chill sank through the thin cotton rags that had served as her only protection for what must have been weeks. She stumbled as her tender, raw bare feet and malnourished leg muscles failed to support her weight on the rough gravel. Strong arms caught her before her knees hit the ground and more hands gently draped warm coats over her shoulders. Her eyes shut tight against tears, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t hold back a whimper and soft sob as pain coursed through her body from several injuries all at once.

“We've got to get her out of here fast,” a familiar voice said quietly—God, she had missed that voice--, “they'll be right behind us in a few minutes. Dugan?”

“Got it, Cap. The trucks are about half a mile out. We can send runners to bring them closer.”

Her head grew light and suddenly Steve was gently patting her cheek. “Peggy, stay with us.”

She wanted to reply—to tell him she was fine—but the most she could muster was an undignified cross between a squeak and a groan.

It was decided that Morita, Dernier, and Junior would run ahead and get the trucks and the remaining Howling Commandos would help Peggy along best they could and keep a guard at their rear.

Steve lifted her off the ground and she cried out, white hot pain searing through her ribs and shoulder. Large boots slipped over her feet and he set her down quickly, smoothing her hair and apologizing frantically in hushed tones.

She didn't reply, half delirious, and hesitantly tested her weight on her legs. It hurt. A lot.

The journey seemed to last an eternity. Steve helped her along, supporting her weight as best he could without jostling her worst injuries as she painstakingly pulled one foot in front of the other over and over until finally—blessedly—their ride appeared and she collapsed in the safety of the truck bed.

The vehicle bounced roughly as Steve inspected her injuries.

“What did they do to you?” he choked as he pulled her ragged shirt away from two scabbed-over and inflamed bullet holes in her shoulder, freshly cracked and bleeding.

She gasped and bit her bottom lip as he gently lifted her arm. “Please,” she whispered through her tears and he dropped her arm back against her side, pressing a kiss to her temple in apology. 

Despite the number of times Steve asked, Peggy couldn’t bring herself to talk about her time underground. Her wounds were treated at the nearest field hospital. Steve and the boys demanded at least one of them be with her at all times and for all their persistence, they were allowed in two at a time in shifts.

Steve had been unwavering in his support, if a little overly attentive, and far more often than not he was one of the two by her bedside. The list of her injuries was fairly extensive, and at any mention of them, the color flooded from his cheeks. She could tell he blamed himself for what happened. Bucky had fallen from the train just over six months before she left for Yugoslavia and he'd been a little off the rails since. He was well on his way to Italy to track down a lead on Hydra when news of her disappearance reached him. No one knew where she had been taken. His orders were to complete the mission before returning. He told her he only stayed because he could hear her voice in his head reminding him about the greater good—the war effort—the future of the world, even if _she_ was his greater good and the only future he ever wanted. He fulfilled his duties in record time, caught the next cargo plane back, and hadn’t rested until she was safe in his arms again.

Peggy vaguely remembered him and Monty being on duty when they reopened her shoulder to dig the bullets free of the bone. The doctors were concerned about infection and had decided action needed to be taken immediately. She didn’t qualify for anesthetic—not that she would have taken any when she knew there were others with far worse off in the camp’s infirmary—so she managed as well as she could by gripping their hands tightly as the surgeons worked, head buried in the bed beneath her. She wasn’t present enough to keep her tears in or her cries muffled. It was absolute burning agony—some of the worst she’d ever experienced—but two of her boys were watching over her carefully, sharing in her misery with as much support as they were able to give so she did her best to tell herself she could make it through.

Eventually, the pain became too much and she blacked out completely.

Nightmares raged in her mind whenever she slept. She was constantly back in her dark cell—in the room where they beat her—in the dirty hallway where they tried to drown her day after day—

Peggy woke with a gasp and clawed at the rough wool blankets wrapped around her torso.

“Fuck—Peggy,” she heard to her left and suddenly a large hand was helping her sit up, “You're at the Dover camp—we got you out two weeks ago yesterday.”

Peggy's mind raced to catch up and she broke into soft sobs as a warm blanket of safety fell over her. The voice belonged to Dugan.

“I'll get Cap. He just stepped out for a word with your doc.”

“No,” she choked softly, struggling to reign in her emotions, “I'm alright.”

He relaxed back in his chair and gave her a skeptical look. “Are you, now?”

“They’re just nightmares, Timothy,” she replied, stone-faced.

“What happens in them?”

She grimaced and shook her head. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Dugan chuckled. “Yes. And so would the rest of the boys. Gotta look out for our gal, haven't we?”

Peggy fell silent, but he didn’t bring it up again. She hated that they never pressed her for answers. She felt it was more than owed after all they'd done for her, but she couldn't seem to find the words. It wasn't until she was finally been allowed a shower that the whole truth came to light—wanted or not.

The shower tent had two rows of stalls and—to her complete and utter terror—a large basin of water. Peggy felt her body react instantly, left arm swinging wildly at anyone who came within ten feet. She didn’t realize she was screaming until Steve appeared at a run, along with half the camp.

She shrank back involuntarily as he approached—her heart breaking at the hurt in his eyes—and he slowed to a stop a few feet away. 

“Peggy?”

Her chest tightened painfully as the panic further engulfed her. She shook uncontrollably, gasping for air as terror gripped her psyche. Steve sat on his heels and caught her gaze.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.”

She wanted to be in his arms, to hide under his strength until the world was right again, but she was paralyzed.

He glanced over his shoulder at what she'd been staring at and stiffened. “Peggy, tell me they didn't.”

She didn't respond and he backed out of her view and shouted something she didn’t have the presence of mind to catch. She only had eyes for that damn basin. Flashes of her time in captivity flew passed her eyes at full speed. 

_Her feet bleed as they scrape desperately across the floor. She cries—screams—fights—as a terribly familiar barrel comes into view. She struggles harder, but they don’t feed her much in this place and her strength is not what it should be. Her captors easily push her head forward over dark liquid._  

“Peggy.”

_Her cries are silenced abruptly as her head is forcefully submerged. She struggles still and her lungs are burning. She’s just about to give in to the lack of air when she feels a painful tug on her scalp and suddenly she can breathe again._ _She barely manages to suck in half a breath before her head is back under the water. She feels their hands grip her tighter as her head grows light and desperate tears burn in her eyes. She knows she’s about to black out again, and when she wakes up…_

Movement caught her eye and she turned her focus to another familiar face.

“Come on, Carter,” Colonel Phillips barked, “I don’t have all day. On your feet.”

Movement returned to her limbs in an automatic response to the orders given and she scrambled to her feet, good arm raising weakly to salute. Phillips waved her forward. She followed with halting steps as her team looked on worriedly.

Steve fell into step beside her.

When they arrived at the command tent, Phillips took out a beat up metal tumbler and decanter of whisky and poured generously before sliding it across his desk to her. She took it gratefully and kicked the lot back in one swallow, enjoying the burning as she tried to breathe through the remaining tightness in her chest. Phillips briefly rested a strong hand on her shoulder and left her and Steve alone while he took care of damage control.

They sat in silence for a painful moment. She moved first, slowly standing and climbing into his lap, curling up and letting out a shaky breath. His arms tightened around her and he kissed her hand. “I should have been there.”

She gripped his hand tightly and indicated both her objection to his statement and her inability to talk about it with a shake of her head. 

“You good?” Phillips asked as he swept through the tent flaps a few minutes later.

Peggy reluctantly untangled herself from Steve and returned to her own chair, keeping one hand firmly in his. “Was anyone hurt badly?” she asked quietly.

Steve looked like he wanted to cry.

“Couple broken noses is nothing,” Phillips replied.

Peggy nodded and fell silent.

“I want you to know you did good, kid. General Ashwood is up and around again—leading those boys into God knows what.”

Tears pricked at her eyes but she held them back valiantly. Her suffering hadn’t been in vain. “Thank you, sir.”

“I'm assigning you recovery leave.”

She opened her mouth to argue.

“You will be within a quarter mile of Captain Rogers at all times, no exceptions, and you will aid the 107th their coming missions until further instruction. I also expect you to make a full recovery because my ass will be on the line if you don’t.”

Her mouth hung open in surprise and Steve squeezed her hand in relief.

“Sir, I don't know what to say,” she stuttered.

“Then don't say anything.”

“ _Thank you,_ Chester,” she said, standing to inflict a hug upon the older man.

He huffed and grumbled at the gesture, but gave her and extra squeeze before she released him.

“Agent, if you'll excuse us, your escort is waiting outside.”

Peggy nodded and pressed a kiss to Steve's temple on her way out.

The Howlies were waiting for her. No one said a word as they circled up around her and began walking her back to the medical tent. Her usual nurses were absent—no doubt busy caring for the poor men who’d been unlucky enough to taste Peggy’s left hook—so there was no one to stop the entirety of the group from entering and making themselves comfortable.

“If I ever get my hands on one of those fucking assholes,” Dugan growled after several minutes of somber silence.

“Timothy,” Peggy scolded.

They all burst into loud objections and she sighed as she listened to one threat on top of another.

“—and God as my witness—“

“Alright, that’s _enough_ ,” she said again loudly, cutting them all off at once. “As much as I’d like to make good on all of these lovely sentiments, now is not the time for a vengeance mission.” They all grumbled in unison and she couldn’t help her small smile. “You’re all far too emotional for the field. Good thing I’ll be spending my recovery leave keeping an eye on you.”

“You’re coming with us?” Junior gasped, “ _With_ us, with us?”

She nodded and pulled her blankets over her shoulders. “I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

A chorus of ‘yes, ma’am’ answered her and she shut her eyes for a deep breath, feeling the knot in her chest loosen even as a lump grew in her throat.

Steve joined them just as tears began spilling down her cheeks and he hurried strait to her side, wrapping her carefully in his arms. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

She wiped at her tears and nodded. “Of course I am, darling.”


	2. Chapter 2

A cold winter breeze invaded the warmth of Peggy’s winter coat as she endured her shift of the watch. She was tired of needing Steve’s help to bundle up against the harsh climate. Her shoulder ached and she reached across her body to rub some feeling back into it. Steve was always glad to help her work around her sling, gently tugging the zipper of her coat closed over it and tying her empty sleeve into a knot to keep out as much of the cold as possible. Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t much help and she was far too stubborn to admit defeat.

She and the commandos were presently camped out overlooking Mannheim, Germany—or what was left of it in any case. The near-constant air raids had torn the city to pieces, and now that they'd stopped, the ruins were left cold and desolate. She'd watched from her post as the last few surviving families gathered their things and disappeared into the surrounding landscape just after dawn.

Peggy bit back a yawn and winced as her ribs protested.

"You okay?" 

Peggy smiled up at Steve as he approached her watch point and sat down next to her. "Yes, darling. Fine.”

“They're getting worse?”

She pursed her lips and shrugged. “I wouldn't say worse.”

“Definitely not better, though. What happened this time?”

Peggy looked down at the snow clinging to their boots. “Same as always. Me in there and—” She broke off, the words stuck in her throat as images of her nightmares flooded her vision.

“Peggy,” Steve pressed, bringing her out of her head, “come back. You're alright. We got you out.”

She nodded stiffly and returned her gaze to the town below.

"Any excitement this morning?" 

She leaned into his arm and sighed, glad for a change in subject. "Not so much as a peep. I am a bit cold though. Care to go for a walk?"

He grinned and called over to Junior to take over the watch. 

They wandered hand in hand down the snowy streets in silence, gazing up at the rows of destroyed homes as Peggy attempted to move some warmth back into her bones and some calm back into her mind. 

"Steve, have you ever thought about what happens to these places after—" 

"Did you hear that?" 

She reached for her gun with her good arm and he held up a hand as his eyes locked onto a ruined building to their right. 

"Stay here," he whispered, "Out of sight. If the walls cave, I should still be able to get out. Cover me."

Peggy nodded and ducked behind a nearby pile of rubble. "Be careful." 

She watched him disappear into the rubble and hugged herself to keep warm as she scanned the area for any sign of movement. He'd been gone just long enough for her to start to worry when she heard him call her name. 

"Peggy—" He appeared through a crumbling archway with a pile of rags in his arms. 

A  _crying_  pile of rags. 

"Oh my God," she cried as she rushed over to help him over the debris, "Steve—" 

He gave her a tight, 'don't ask' smile and held the bundle out to her. "Will you hold him a sec'?" 

Peggy swallowed hard and nodded, holstering her weapon and accepting the rags carefully with one arm. Her eyes came to rest on a tiny red face, streaked with tears. 

"Oh, God—Okay," she mumbled, panicking slightly as she struggled to remember exactly what it was her mother and aunts had done with the young cousins when they fussed, "Oh, fuck—okay, um—there, there, my darling." She hushed him softly and began to bounce him.  "You're in quite a pickle aren't you?" she whispered, feeling slightly silly for speaking to an infant who couldn't be more than a few weeks old, but unable to tear her eyes away from his little face, "Good thing we're here, eh? That's it.”

The baby's wailing began to dissipate, instead turning into distressed whimpers and the occasional hiccup. "No need to cry, sweetheart," she continued softly as the whimpers stopped, "You're with the good Captain, see?" 

She glanced over to see what was keeping Steve and found him, wool coat in hand, staring at her with such love in his eyes— 

"No," she said quickly, recognizing that look, "and even if I said yes, an infant in an active war zone is hardly—" 

"But, Peggy—" 

Her voice cracked as she continued, "Steve  _we can't._ " 

She turned away from him, using the child's whimper as an excuse to avoid the longing in his eyes.

Steve smiled and draped his coat over her shoulders and around the bundle in her arms. "Come on," he said, guiding her forward with a large hand on her back, "Let’s get back and see what we can find for him to eat." 

 

~~~~~~~

 

Traveling with a baby proved to be quite a challenge, especially with Peggy's still-healing injuries, but they made due. The commandos went well out of their way to find food and blankets for the little one and even took turns bouncing him on their knees around the fire to allow her time to rehabilitate her shoulder. 

As the weeks passed, she found herself far more attached to the boy than she deemed reasonable, though the unexpected realization didn’t stop her from spending every spare moment of her time in his presence. Not that she had much choice since most of the boys hadn’t had much experience with infants. That fact alone left her dutiful husband—and Peggy herself by default—as stand-in mother and father. Steve hovered like a nervous bird, always asking if she needed him to fetch anything, not because he felt she needed help with the tending, but because her ever-present nightmares still tightened the fine lines around her eyes and he could tell she was doing everything in her power to avoid addressing the problem. They took turns waking up with their charge during the night and shuffled around camp every morning with dark circles under their eyes.

"It's a good look on you, darling." 

Steve glanced up from his sketchbook. "What?" 

Peggy shifted a squirmy little boy from one knee to the other, injured shoulder now permanently free from the sling, though still occasionally stiff, and gestured at the thick, dark stubble that he had stopped bothering to shave now that his sleep schedule was so unpredictable. 

"You think?" he asked, rubbing it experimentally. 

"I do. It suits you." 

"I'll keep it." 

She laughed outright. "For the day maybe. You'll need it gone before tomorrow. Phillips won't have scruff on his men no matter how matter how many times I say please." 

 

~~~~~~

 

Colonel Phillips was able to find a lovely little family to take the child in and presented them immediately upon the group's arrival, which put an unexpected damper on their spirits. They had all grown to accept him as part of the family and as the following days drifted passed, the hole he left only grew larger. 

Peggy lay silently pondering next to Steve, soaking in as much warmth from him as she could. He reached over and pulled the blankets up around her shoulders and settled back to stare at the mud-stained tent overhead. She knew it had been particularly hard on him to lose the company of their little bundle of giggles. He'd been feeling lost since Bucky’s death and her captivity, no matter how hard she tried to get him to talk about it, and he’d never been shy about wanting kids of his own someday.

"Steve?" she whispered as she curled into his side. 

"Yeah?" 

She sat up on her elbows began fidgeting. "What if—What if we took the leap?" 

Steve raised an eyebrow. "We're already married." 

"I meant—" the words caught in her throat and her chest tightened painfully, "Maybe we could—try to—" 

He draped an arm across her stomach and she shifted into a more comfortable position. "What's wrong, Peg?" 

"Jesus," she huffed, frustrated with herself, "Come on, Carter."

Steve reached for her hand. "Woah, woah—hold on." 

"I'm ready. I want a baby," she said quickly, "I mean I want us to have—" He froze and she immediately began backtracking. "It was just a thought. We can think about it for a while or wait for everything to settle down—you’ve been so patient with me all this time, and I would never want to pressure you about having a family if you had changed your mind—I thought after these last few weeks—well years really—don’t we deserve to move forward? Even just a little? I just—"

Steve broke into a grin and she realized she'd misinterpreted his expression. "Really?”

She smiled and looked down at the blankets. "Yeah." 

He tugged her arm until she was on top of his chest and kissed her soundly, then pulled back. "You know I never needed anything more than you, right?" he said seriously. 

Peggy rolled her eyes. “Thank fuck for that." 

Steve snorted lougly and she burst into a fit of relieved giggles.

"Well, now that it's settled, it's past lights out," she announced.

He pulled in his chin and pulled her on top of him. "Or we could stay awake a little longer."

She hummed as his breath tickled the skin behind her ear. "I suppose I could stand to keep my eyes open a little longer for you, my darling."

He grinned. "Good. Me too."


	3. Chapter 3

The first time he almost missed it. 

Peggy knew the war would inevitably come for her. She always suspected she might even die young, though not too young, unless it was illness or by the hand of God. No, she was too prepared for a fight—overly so since her capture. The psychological trauma may have even unexpectedly supplemented her skills by making her hyper aware of things around her when she felt threatened. Death had taken many of her dearly loved ones, and each time her heart broke, she felt a little closer to the edge. She bid Steve a hasty farewell on a snowy mountain with one hand on her lips where she could still feel the press of his lips, and the other over the slightly raised area just below her navel, feeling as though she were signing her own death certificate. If she ever lost him—If he _ever_ left her behind in this world—Well, she was certain it would not be for long.

The moment she got back to base, she was running for the radio tower. Something felt very wrong. She could feel the grim reaper hanging over her, taunting her in the back of her mind. She found the technician with Steve’s connection and all but shoved him out of the way.

It wasn’t going to be him. Not him. Not ever.

"There has to be another way." Static bounced off the walls of the control room and Peggy's shoulders slumped in despair. "I can't do this without you. I _wont_." 

He didn't reply for a long moment. "Peggy--" 

"No," she growled, "Give me your bloody coordinates." 

"It's alright. The boy's will take care of you both." 

Peggy pounded a fist on the communication panel in frustration. "Give me the fucking numbers, Steve! I’m not losing you." 

Steve sighed and a moment later, numbers began coming through in code. She scrambled for a paper and pencil, jotting them down as fast as they came and blinking her tears away, all the while repeating two words in her mind.

_Not Steve._

Wish granted.

Peggy had just handed Steve’s coordinates over to the lead retrieval team and headed to join her boys in the second plane when the cramping started and she realized she was in trouble. She waved them on without her, certain the pain and unmistakable fear on her face was the only thing that convinced them to leave her behind without an argument. She dimly recalled checking herself and seeing deep crimson blood on the tips of her fingers before everything went black.

 

~~~~~~~

 

"Steve's rescue team just landed. Phillips called to say he's on his way." 

Peggy winced and tried to sit up. "Thanks Annie. Could you—" 

Annie nodded. "Stay put." 

Peggy did as she was told. Annie was the pride and joy of the base's nursing staff. If it also helped that she was Peggy's first cousin—well, they wouldn't mention it to anyone important.

Peggy stared at the ceiling, tears pooling in her eyes. Annie had tried to explain to her that this type of complication couldn’t possibly be due to something she would have been responsible for, nor could she have done anything to prevent it—that the fetus wouldn’t have been viable to begin with—but it did little to soothe the pain.

She had _begged_ for it not to be Steve and hadn’t she been given exactly what she asked for? A sob escaped her lips and she covered her mouth with one hand.

The door burst open and Steve stumbled over the threshold, tears in his eyes. "Peggy!" Her bottom lip quivered and she held out her arms for him. Steve shushed her gently and held her tighter. "You're going to be just fine."

"I'm so sorry," she wept into his neck.

“It’s not your fault. You know that,” he comforted, smoothing back her sweat-dampened hair.

She fumbled around for his hand as a now familiar pain began to build in her abdomen. "Where's Annie?" 

Steve turned around, oblivious to the fact that she hadn’t followed him in. "I'm not sure.”

Peggy sucked in a sharp breath and curled in on herself. For all Steve’s calm strength on the battlefield, she was a little surprised when he began to panic. 

"What do I do?" he squeaked, frantically trying to find a way to help. She dug her fist into her abdomen and let out a soft groan. He kissed her forehead. "Should I find Annie?" 

Peggy shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. "No, it’s alright. Help me up?" 

Steve nodded quickly and helped her stand. She gestured toward the far corner where a makeshift shower had been thrown together. "Peggy—"

"Don't," she whispered, voice cracking painfully. He brushed the tears from her cheeks and crouched down in front of her as she sank to her knees. His arms wrapped around her and she rested her forehead against his, crying softly in despair. 

He continued to hold her as minutes passed and Peggy's body shook violently. She had just enough presence of mind to register his tears and took a moment to wipe his cheeks dry with her thumbs. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been there—an eternity surely—when Annie came through the door, arms full of supplies.

"How long has she been like this?" she asked Steve tossing everything aside in her rush to check Peggy over. 

Steve shifted to the side to give Annie room. "Ten minutes. Give or take." 

She looked up at him. "Is it give or take?" 

He opened and closed his mouth a couple times before finding his words. "More than five, less than ten." 

"Margaret, darling—that's it. Up you go," she coaxed as she helped Peggy shift slightly. "Steve, get her some water from the dresser." 

 _"_ No, please," Peggy protested. Steve obeyed before resuming his comforting hold on Peggy. She fought them. She didn't want the water. She took a sip. She threw it back up almost as soon as it went down. "Oh, God." 

Steve rubbed circles into her back and held her upright as Annie wiped up the mess. Peggy rested her sweaty forehead on his chest and took several deep breaths. "Again," Annie demanded. 

Steve hesitated. 

"She needs to keep hydrated." 

It took another two swallows before the water stayed down and Annie was satisfied. Peggy was still suffering occasional waves of pain, but soon Annie softly informed them it was over and left them to mourn the loss in peace. Neither of them bothered to quiet their sobs. 

They didn't speak, but after they'd cried all of the tears that would come for the moment, Steve helped Peggy to her feet and carefully began removing her bloodstained uniform, no doubt focusing all his pain into soothing hers. She hated herself for not being able to find the words he needed to hear, or the ability to speak them. She stood shaking as he turned on the tap and undressed to his cargo pants and t-shirt. Gently, he guided her under the spray and began helping her wash away the horror. 

Peggy bowed her head against his chest as he massaged the harsh ration soap into her hair. He kissed her neck and the two pink circular scars on her shoulder and she clung tightly to his free arm as he finished rinsing away the suds and turned off the spray. She half-dressed in her fresh uniform as Steve poured her another glass of water and changed the bed sheets and his own uniform. Her heart ached painfully with every beat, and her body echoed the ache with each movement as she settled into Steve's side and let herself drown completely in her sorrow and guilt.

"Eat a little," Steve whispered pleadingly, pulling open a small sachet and offering her an assortment of dried fruit. 

She buried her face into his shoulder with a quiet sniffle. 

"Just one and some water," he begged, "I swear I'll drop it until later if you do." 

Peggy still said nothing, but her hand turned upward in submission and he placed a single slice in her palm. 

She nearly gagged as the fruit passed her lips, but she forced it down and took a sip of water before turning on her side and pulling his arm over her waist so she could reach his hand. "Don’t scare me like that ever again," she manage to whispere just as she began to feel drowsey. 

Steve looked down. "I'm sorry. I won't." He paused. "This is pretty scary, too." 

She squeezed his hand and he caught her eye again. "It is. I'm glad you're here." 

He nodded. "Maybe Captain America could stay gone. Phillips might be able to do something." 

Peggy shrugged, unable to find the will to reply, and they fell back into somber silence. 

It was quiet for weeks. They carried on with their work as usual, pretending all was as it should be even if it very much wasn't. The commandos and Colonel Phillips helped Steve stay out of sight as they spread the word that Captain America went down with the Valkyrie, giving him plenty of free time to work with Peggy on her nightmares, which now included vivid portrayals of Steve actually taking down the Valkyrie and the loss of their child intermittently. Peggy was reassigned to New York once it was apparent she needed and deserved some personal time. She spent her days posing as an agent for the SSR and exposing Hydra operatives from within. Steve was usually holed up at their tiny flat with his art while she was at work, but with the war still trudging on without them and the guilt that weighed on them both for living a comparatively cushy lift away from the danger of the front lines while so many risked their lives, he volunteered for the odd job on his own or with the Howlies back in Europe every few weeks. They'd taken to exchanging the wedding bands they wore around their necks each time they were separated to remind them of the other's love and support. 

Don't lose courage. Keep going. 

It was not easy or anywhere near perfect, but it was good enough for them. They had started to build something solid together and it was beautiful to them, despite the heartache along the way. Talking about all the loss and pain became easier as they took their new life head on. 

As the months progressed, Peggy in particular felt quite displaced. She’d been on the front lines most of her life, grown up in the trenches with her hair cut short and her older brother, Michael, by her side. She felt an odd sort of homesickness for the work and quickly began inserting herself into any assignment that promised danger. It wasn't long before their genius friend Howard Stark contacted her with a special request: to find his stolen inventions and clear his name. After many absolutely necessary eye-rolls in Howard’s direction and some discussion with Steve, she took the job and began her snooping. 

What she uncovered was thrilling. She had purpose again, and more than that, she was actively helping fight Hydra again. The investigation was soothing to her aching heart and trauma-wrecked psyche, and it was a welcome surprise to discover that she would need to continue her work exactly where she longed to be.

"The 107th will meet us here." Peggy said, pointing at a spot on the map where she'd circled in red, "Three team members will be returning from scouting an area farther south. I'll meet up with them here and brief them on our way to the rendezvous."

"Don’t sound so confidant." Jack scoffed, clearly unhappy with the plan. "How do you know they'll even show? The war is still hot. We’ve got enemies everywhere. How do we know we can trust them?" 

Peggy bristled. She  _really_  didn't like her fellow agent much. "Agent Thompson, I served with these men for many years through the height of the war. With all due respect, I know them backward and forward. They  _will_  be there."

Another agent jumped in with a question before Jack could pester her more and the rest of the briefing went by quickly. She had certainly expected Jack to be miffed that she was allowed to be part of the team to go to Russia, but she was determined not to let it bother her. Her investigation was turning out to be much more than it seemed initially. She knew it was important to follow through. Jack's team had ended their investigation exactly where she had ended hers, which was a welcome solution to the trouble she’d been having securing transportation. She had to get to Russia and find out more about Leviathan, yes, but perhaps more pressing than that, she  _needed_  to see her boys again. It had been over a year since they’d said goodbye. Steve had been on a solo mission for the past two months—longer than he’d ever been gone—and she had quickly concluded that she was not good at being alone anymore. 

"Dismissed. Good luck." 

The team, which consisted of Peggy, Jack, Rodriguez, and Li, filed into the elevator and made their way to their waiting transport. 

As if Steve being away for an extended period of time wasn’t stressful enough, God or the universe or karma had decided it was the perfect time to bless them with a second chance at a family. Peggy made herself comfortable in a corner of their drop plane and curled up in the hopes she would be able to appease her exhaustion. Steve’s wedding band rested on a chain between her breasts, close to her heart, though he was far away. She pulled it from inside her shirt and ran her thumb over the smooth metal. Tears pricked at her eyes and she quickly tucked it away before anyone saw. She could feel the heat of Jack’s scowl on her back. Intemperate, idiotic jackass. He likely thought she’d come along to make him look bad. Peggy pushed the thoughts away and settled in. It wasn’t like she could tell him why she’d really come.

When she awoke, her fellow agents were still asleep. She stretched quietly and made her way to the cockpit to inquire about their position.

“I’d say you’ve got about fifteen minutes, ma’am,” the pilot estimated. “Maybe thirty for the others.”

She thanked him and returned to fold her blanket back into her pack and strap on her harness. Her fingers moved fluidly over the buckles, fastening each one with expert precision. She may not admit it often, but _god_ she loved to jump.

Peggy finished with her parachute and turned to find Jack awake, watching her warily. She repressed a sigh and stepped toward him, dropping the map in his lap. “We’ll meet you at o’eight-hundred. If Timothy gets cross, try offering him a drink,” she suggested quietly, then as an afterthought, “And be careful.”

She could see her advice was unwelcome and she wasn’t in the mood for whatever snarky comment or insult was on the tip of his tongue, so she turned on her heels and pulled the door open, leaning out over the edge to watch her mark approach. She thought briefly of Steve just as she tipped her weight over the edge and let go. He had an awful habit of jumping without a parachute. A smile crept up her cheeks. She missed him terribly.

Peggy allowed herself to free-fall for a few seconds before arching her back and gaining more control. Monty, Sawyer, and Jim were due to meet her about a mile north of her mark.

Maybe it was a little reckless of her.

She angled her body forward and picked up speed as her mark approached, then disappeared behind her. She slowed herself as she spotted the fork in the road where Pinky had once split his pants from front to rear during a visit from Colonel Phillips (and, to be clear, she had absolutely _not_ lent her sewing kit to Junior and Sawyer that morning so they could compromise the seams), and pulled her ripcord. The wind caught her chute and her harness jerked, then stilled as she touched down dead center of the fork.

Applause broke out from the trees to her right and she bowed dramatically as her parachute settled behind her and her boys walked out of the brush.

“Fucking amazing,” Morita scoffed, “She hasn’t jumped for a year and a half and she fucking nails the center of the road.”

Peggy snorted in amusement and unclipped her harness before greeting them all with a firm embrace. “You smell bloody awful.”

They laughed and she joined in as they headed for the trucks.

“How have you been, Peg?”

She made a noncommittal sound and shrugged. “Much better now that I’m here.”

They all managed to squeeze in the cab of the truck and Peggy was glad for the ability to roll the windows down enough to let the smell out and fresher air in as they drove and caught up.

“So they think they’re here to prove Stark is selling to Hydra?”

Peggy nodded. “I don’t know what they think they’re going to find, but we’ll have to be careful nonetheless.”

The remainder of the drive went by quickly. She gazed out the window at the passing forest and couldn’t help but feel like she was where she belonged. As nice as the city was, she was glad to be back. It was probably the fact that she’d been away that delayed her in finding her companions out.

“Oh my god,” she mumbled in disbelief. “Are you about to try one of your awful pranks on me?”

Sawyer shook his head in denial, but the grin he was suppressing told a different story.

“We know better than to prank you, Carter.”

She crossed her arms. “What then?”

Monty fixed her with an incredulous look. “We can’t tell you. That would ruin the surprise.”

Peggy opened her mouth to begin the threats, but Morita raised a finger and pointed as they came around the corner and pulled to a stop next to camp.

_Steve._

Her jaw dropped and the three men grinned wickedly.

“God, I hate you,” she huffed breathlessly as she fumbled clumsily with the door handle and stumbled out of the truck.

He had his back toward her, talking to the SSR men. She groaned inwardly. She couldn’t have him to herself, especially not with Jack Thompson in the mix. As she approached, she was amused to see the three of them in various states of shock as Steve spoke.

“I hope you don’t mind my coming along,” she heard him finish. Briefly, she wondered if he’d said anything about their relationship yet.

"Holy shit--" 

"You're supposed to be dead!" 

Steve laughed and Peggy saw the color in Jack’s face drain steadily. 

"You--you're Captain America," he stuttered stupidly. 

"Third from the top highest classified secret of the American government," Steve joked, "In the flesh." 

Jack shook his hand enthusiastically and Peggy realized she’d never seen that look on his face. He was meeting his hero.

God, there were no words—

“Almost didn't recognize you with the...," he said, gesturing at Steve's beard. 

Steve laughed and scratched at it. "It does well enough when I'm trying to keep a low profile, though if I'm being honest, I mostly keep it around for my girl. She loves it." 

Jack frowned in confusion. "Your girl?"

“The wife,” he clarified. 

"I do rather love it, darling," she interrupted, surprising them all, “It suits you.”

Steve turned and grinned at her. She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked an eyebrow  at him expectantly. Jack squeaked in surprise but Steve’s arms were snaking around her waist and his forehead was pressed against hers and she couldn’t be bothered to remember anyone else was present once his lips met hers.

“I thought you were on a scouting assignment,” she said, breaking their kiss for a moment. 

"I was. Finished early due to extenuating circumstances." 

"Being?" 

"I heard you'd be here." 

She rolled her eyes and pulled the chain from around her neck. "Captain, if you don't mind." 

He giggled like a child and reached for his own, handing it over with another kiss. "Jesus, I missed you, Peg." 

Peggy's shoulders relaxed and she carded her fingers through his hair, relishing the feeling of being in his arms again. "I missed you, too, my darling." 

"Wait just a second," Jack interrupted loudly, finally overcoming his surprise, "It’s _Carter_? Carter is your  _wife_?"

Peggy hummed in annoyance and resolutely ignored him, determined not to let him ruin the moment. It was bad enough that he knew something so intimate about her private life, she wasn’t about to get into an argument with him over his hero and the woman that made his life hell for being good at her job no matter how much she liked the idea of throwing the crude and sexist jokes he and the other agenst made at her expense back in his smug face. Still, she left it alone and turned to inspect the rest of her boys. 

"Now what's this I hear about you lot skipping out on K rations?" she asked, hands propped on her hips, "Has someone  _actually_ given you better food to live on?" 

The boys roared with laughter. 

"No such thing as a better food than Ks in these parts," Dugan proclaimed. “But we figured why not let the refugees have a little more and live off the land for a while, as they say.” 

Peggy laughed, pride filling her chest. "I expect you've all been behaving yourselves in my absence." 

Jack scoffed quietly behind her as each commando murmured his respective 'yes, ma'am'. "Why don't we have some breakfast," he interrupted again. "I'm sure Carter wouldn’t mind throwing something together." 

The group looked at him in confusion, then, assuming he was joking, erupted into more laughter. Except for Peggy and Junior, who were too busy shooting dirty looks at their comrades. "Agent Thompson," Peggy said once the laughter had ceased, "it's Wednesday. Junior does breakfast on Wednesdays." 

"And Carter does cooking never.” She glared at Monty, but he didn't falter. "She's terrible at cooking. Burns everything." 

"It was  _one time_. And it wasn't even my fault," she defended. 

Morita snorted. "No, it was Cap's fault." 

Steve blushed vibrantly and the men howled with laughter. Peggy crossed her arms, barely keeping her own laughter in check. She couldn't help it. He was absolutely adorable when he was embarrassed and she was so glad to be with her family again. "I suppose you'd all like a little humiliation with your breakfast as well?" she clipped, the threat apparent in her tone. The laughter stopped immediately and Junior got to work, pulling Gabe and Dernier along with him to help with prep. 

Steve slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. "Well handled, Agent."

The remaining Howlies whistled in jest and Peggy sent a very unladylike gesture in their direction. "Don't you all have better things to do?" 

Jack looked like he wanted to say something, but the famed Howling Commandos were already hard at work, and she wasn’t about to stick around for a lecture. Besides, now that she had Steve again, there was something she needed to get off her chest. 

Peggy grabbed Steve's arm and pulled him aside. "I have a surprise for you." 

His face lit up and he leaned down to whisper in jest, "Is it the red thing?" 

She huffed and slapped his chest. "No, Steve, it's not the red thing. Though I suppose the surprise is owed completely to the red thing." 

Peggy watched in delight as his face changed from a pout, to a confused frown, to disbelief. 

"You're joking." 

"Not in the least." 

Steve's eyes immediately filled with tears and she reached up to cup his cheek. "Oh, my love, please don't cry." 

He pulled her into a tight hug and buried his face in her neck. She ran her fingers through his hair and hushed him gently as his hot tears ran down her collarbone. She whispered to him quietly as his shoulders shook, her own eyes growing misty as she assured him she'd been feeling just fine so far. 

He pulled away and she slipped her hand into his as he wiped his cheeks. "Does anyone else know?" 

She smiled. "Not a soul. Thought you'd like to do the honors. Not the SSR crew, though. I think that's better left alone for now. Possibly forever." 

Steve grinned and kissed her soundly. "Best get to it, then." 

Peggy laughed. "Best. Off you go." 

"I love you, Peggy." 

She smiled and gave him a little push forward. “I love you, too.”


	4. Chapter 4

Breakfast was delicious in more ways than one. Steve sat on the ground in front of Peggy and kept one large hand on her leg at all times as they ate. The Howlies were delighted to hear the good news and she repeatedly caught every single one of them grinning at her like idiots. If Jack and her other fellow SSR agents hadn't been there, she'd have given them a proper scolding by now. As it was, she tolerated their knowing looks with barely-masked restraint and tried to ignore the jealous scowls from Jack.

They spent the better part of the morning bent over several maps of the area, planning their route and infiltration as carefully as possible. Jack led the discussion, but Peggy could practically see the steam coming from his ears each time Steve and the commandos looked to her to confirm his plans. It was nonsense for him to expect them to just follow his lead blindly when they’d never met him, especially when he himself had loudly proclaimed his own misgivings about their loyalty. She did her best to make most of the plan sound like his own idea, but she couldn’t help suggesting a few of her own ideas based on her time in the region—alternate routes to avoid patrols and the like. As important and useful as her experience was, by the time they piled into the trucks, Jack was boiling with rage.

Their destination was a good five days away, even driving at full speed. The idea was to get in as quietly as they could, then out as quickly as possible. The air field where they would make their escape was a mere ten miles from the target.

Peggy, Jack, and the Commandos (except for Monty and Junior, who were managing the driving alongside Li and Rodriguez) settled into the bed of the cargo truck.  She had hoped to get some time to speak freely without Jack present, but she was happy enough with the arrangement. Steve had stretched out beside her almost immediately and she toyed with his hair in her lap as she talked with her boys and he caught up on some much-needed sleep.

"It's damn good to have you back, Peg." Morita sighed well into the afternoon.

Peggy smiled and dropped her eyes to Steve's peaceful face. "I've missed you all very much. Things haven’t been the same since—," she caught herself and cleared her throat to keep her voice from wobbling, “Well, I’ve been wishing to be back here since the moment I left.”

The boys bowed their heads respectfully and Jack snorted from his corner. "The front lines? If you love it so much, you should have stayed out here and saved New York the trouble."

"Jack," she warned as several of the boys glared in his direction with fists balled.

"No, no, Marge,” he fumed, “I’d like to know what the  _fuck_ the SSR ever did to piss off your CO so bad he pulled you out of the hostile territory you _love_ to keep us from doing our jobs.”

It almost happened too quickly for her to react. Dugan balled his fist and Morita moved to pounce.

" _Don't,"_ she snapped before any of them could start swinging. Her sudden outburst woke Steve and he sat up quickly with a yawn. Jack huffed in disbelief as the commandos settled back obediently like well-trained dogs, eyes shooting daggers in his direction.

“You don’t know piss squat about it,” Dugan snarled, “and I think you’d better apologize before—“

“ _Enough_ , Timothy,” she ordered crisply, staring him down until he sniffed and backed off before continuing. “Contrary to SSR tradition, Agent Thompson, I was not a juvenile sent to sit behind a desk and play detective," she clipped, forcing her emotions to stay in check. "I didn't need watching over. I didn't need to be given something to do with my time."

"Peggy, don't."

She stopped abruptly at Steve's tone and looked up at him, startled to see him eying Jack with such raw ferocity. Steve was not usually one to be quick to anger. He looked torn between killing Jack himself or ripping a tree strait out of the ground. Quickly, she rested a hand on his arm, calming him instantly. "Trust me, Agent, you don’t want to go there," he warned softly, leaving no room for argument.

Jack did his best to look unaffected by an angry super soldier telling him to back off, but didn't say another word for the rest of the afternoon’s drive. Tears pricked at Peggy's eyes as the tension died and she blinked furiously at them. Steve settled upright next to her, watching Jack predatorily as he glared at nothing in particular.

"They don't know?" Steve whispered. She shook her head and gave him a watery smile. He slung an arm around her shoulders and kissed her head. "Of course not."

They drove through the night, stopping for short breaks only twice—once to eat and once to stretch their legs and change drivers—both of which Peggy spent on her hands and knees in the brush a good distance from the trucks. Her stomach had been rolling painfully and constantly since just before they piled into the trucks, and the added jostling did nothing to calm it. She hadn’t been able to eat much, pushing her food around on her plate and nibbling here and there until it was time to pack up and drive on.

The harsh, rocky terrain eventually gave way to dense forests, unexpectedly forcing them onto paved roads. Jack was noticeably pleased that Peggy's plan had seemingly had a hiccup, but as they unloaded their tents and supplies for the night and he realized it wasn't going to be as much of a problem as he expected, his moodiness returned. Monty and Pinky were already painting over any identifying markers on the vehicles and pulling out stencils of enemy markers to replace them like they’d done it a thousand times before.

She couldn’t believe he was pouting over their safety. It wasn’t as if she had said her piece to make him look incompatant. He had served thousands of miles away and for a relatively short period of time in comparison with the group. Surely he couldn’t be so arrogant that he would prefer going in blind over listening to an agent who had spent more of her life in this godforsaken territory than she’d spent outside of it. Perhaps it only had to do with her sex. Ridiculous.

Peggy sighed and grabbed a bundle of clothing from the back of the second truck and headed for her fellow agent. "Uniforms," she explained, when he glared at her, "We should get through on the road without meeting anyone, but even if we do see anyone, we won't be stopped if we look enough like them. The patrols on this side of Europe are fairly easy to slip past if you know what you’re doing."

He took the uniform and nodded grumpily.

"Listen, Jack, about earlier," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. It got a little out of hand and—They mean well, honestly, but—"

Without a word, Jack turned on his heel and walked away. Peggy watched him go and sighed.

"Everything alright?"

She turned and Steve snaked his arms around her waist. "Fine, darling,” she sighed, “I may turn in early tonight. At the very least it'll give the men some time together without all the hostility Agent Thompson feels for me."

"But you're feeling okay?" he verified.

"No," she admitted, leaning into his chest, "I'll be fine once I lie down for a little while."

He ran a strong hand up and down her back. "You want me to keep you company?"

She pulled back and raised up on her toes to kiss him. "Always, but I think that may make things worse. I'll be alright on my own."

There was a great deal more debating before Steve agreed to let her go alone—mostly revolving around the possibility of her waking up and forgetting where she was—but he'd reluctantly given in by the time camp was set and their dinner was cooking.

"There's a river down the hill a quarter mile or so," Jack announced, glancing around for free hands, "We should get what we need there. Carter, Li, why don't you make a trip now so we'll be set for tonight?"

Peggy’s heart began to race, panic tightening her chest painfully. She couldn’t move—she couldn’t breathe…

_She is in a familiar dark cell. The lock on her door clicks loudly and she looks up up at her captors, unable to move her right arm, blood all around her on the cold cement floor. Her blood. Two of the men step aside and reveal three more, carrying several buckets that slosh as they come toward her._

"I'll go," Pinky offered quickly, first to find his voice.

The rest of the men came out of their stupor and Steve quickly reached for her, one hand on each shoulder.

_She scrambles back desperately, begging—pleading—please—her shoulder oozes more blood and she screams in agony as one of the men not carrying a bucket grabs her by the arms and tosses her into a corner where all she can do is lie there while they crowd closer._

Steve began shaking her gently and ducked down to meet her gaze. She didn’t meet his eyes, struggling to take hold of her fear.  His mouth was moving, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying over the ringing in her ears. Peggy felt the ground beneath her shift and Steve shook her harder.

_The first bucket of water they dump over hear head stings the holes in her shoulder badly. Her heart stutters painfully and she gasps for air, panic engulfing her. Another bucket. Another bucket. Another—_

“Peggy," Steve said firmly, louder now, "Come back. You're safe. We’re all here with you."

Peggy's vision cleared a little and Steve watched her closely as she took several deep breaths and tried to hold onto reality. She was shaking uncontrollably.

"Do you know where we are?” Steve asked. She nodded and dropped her gaze to the ground, avoiding Jack’s dumbfounded stare as her eyes filled with tears. Steve lowered his voice and whispered softly, “I’m not letting you sleep alone.”

Her head shot up and she shook her head firmly. “No, I’m—I’ll be fine. I just need a moment.”

Steve didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and stepped out of her way as she made for the trucks to finish the stenciling Pinky had abandoned. She made quick work of the job, then ducked into the tent she and Steve were sharing and took a few minutes to sit on the ground and breathe in and out steadily, counting her breaths and trying to focus on anything but her memories. Her stomach rolled and she groaned as she spread her bed roll next to Steve’s and collapsed onto her pillow. Morning sickness hadn’t been as much of a presence this go-around, but it seemed she was not going to be so fortunate on this mission.

She rubbed a hand over her face and closed her eyes, trying to shake the lingering fear. Since her time in captivity, Steve had been working tirelessly to help her with her panic attacks and nightmares and she really had improved. A few months ago it would have taken more than two hours for her to calm down enough to function properly. Another few minutes and she felt herself relax inside. Gone for now, but episodes like this often brought on dark dreams.

She decided against sleep for now and slid her shirt up a few inches to expose her bare midriff. Her fingers danced gently over her navel and she strained to see even the smallest of changes. She wasn’t showing yet, but she was softer. Her usually toned abdomen had lost its hard edge, though the muscle was still clearly there. She shut her eyes and began to daydream about the future in store for her and Steve, hands resting lovingly over their second chance.

“Where’s Carter?"

Peggy’s eyes popped open as Jack’s voice drifted through the tent fabric from the direction of the fire.

"She'll be up again later. She's taking first watch," Steve replied easily.

Of course. Jack was curious. Probably looking for a way to end her career or ensure she never even breathed in the direction of one of his investigations anytime soon.

"I've seen that look before," she heard her fellow agent say cautiously, "What happened to her?"

She sighed and sat up, listening despite the voice in her head telling her it didn't matter. No one answered for a long moment.

"Back at the start of this mess, Peggy was stationed outside of Vienna," Steve began reverently, "She was a top operative for the few bases still left behind enemy lines. She transferred out a few years back to help with Project Rebirth. Anyway, a couple years ago her former CO went missing and the higher-ups were calling him a deserter. Peg knew something was up, so she went looking for him. Found him in prison at a base in Yugoslavia."

"And she got caught?" Li’s voice assumed.

She heard several snickers and Dugan spoke. "Peggy Carter doesn't get caught unless she wants to be caught.”

Peggy pursed her lips. Absolute rubbish. She hadn’t actually _meant_ to get caught that time. At least not _that_ caught.

"Her CO was injured,” Steve continued, “but she got him moving. They were well on their way out when they accidentally tripped a hidden alarm. Peggy told him to get out and lingered back long enough for him to escape."

"What did they do to her?" Jack asked.

Peggy stopped listening abruptly and began looking through her bag for her spare jumper. It didn’t matter what Steve told them, but she suspected it would be the truth. He was a terrible liar anyway.

She tugged the jumper over her head and pulled her uniform jacket back on. The silence outside was deafening. Best to save them all the discomfort. Peggy emerged from the tent and approached the stoic group.

"Jesus, has someone died?"

They all jumped and Peggy sank down at Steve's feet, gladly starting in on his half-finished plate. She was surprised to find that her stomach had settled and she was fairly hungry.

"Just reminiscing," Steve shrugged, fixing each of the SSR men with a warning look.

Peggy pretended not to notice and laughed brightly, speaking through a mouthful of food. "Did you tell them about the time I won Howlie push-up contest and now you're all so frightened of getting beat again that you've stopped having it altogether?"

Dugan made a noise in protest and suddenly the heavy atmosphere lifted and they all jumped in with their additions to the tale, much to Peggy's entertainment. Jack was unusually quiet as stories were exchanged, but she ignored it, content to relax in the comfort of the firelight.

"Feeling any better?" Steve whispered as the conversation died down a little. Peggy shrugged and leaned back into his chest. "You'll tell me if it gets worse?"

She looked up at him and smiled. "You know I will, darling."

He nodded and slid his arms around her from behind, running his thumb across her stomach where no one else could see it.

The fire dimmed and one by one the men retired to their tents for the night, leaving Steve and Peggy alone for the first hour of watch. Steve pulled her to her feet and into his chest, gently swaying in the darkness. They spoke in whispers about what each had been doing since they parted, and about how Peggy was fairing with the baby this go around, until they ran out of things to say besides the obvious.

"You told them, didn't you," she whispered finally, “about Yugoslavia.”

He leaned his head on hers and sighed. "What was I supposed to say? What happened this afternoon was purely an accident. Agent Thompson was practically bursting at the seams to find out what was going on—I think he really felt bad about it. Li and Rodriguez would have eventually convinced him you were crazy or something. Maybe it'll help him understand things a little better."

Peggy shut her eyes and sighed softly. "I hope you're right."

 

 

_She’s somewhere unfamiliar. Her arms and legs are strapped to a gurney and there are machines beeping all around her. Everything is too bright and too clean and her head is foggy. None of it makes sense until she looks down at herself. Her middle is swollen and round and she can’t remember what—_

_The baby. Steve. Oh, God._

_She pulls at the restraints with little success. There is pain where they hold her wrists and ankles and she notices for the first time that her skin is raw and bleeding from apparent previous attempts. She narrows her eyes, trying to remember how she got here. She shakes her head and reminds herself it’s a dream, but the thought slips away before she can grab hold of it._

_Suddenly, alarms begin blaring and soldiers and scientists alike are flooding through the doors and attending to the machines. To her horror, they all proudly wear the Hydra insignia._

_Two men lay some sort of device over her belly and she screams at them. She tries desperately to get loose, but her restraints are tight and someone pokes her arm with a syringe. She immediately loses feeling from her shoulders down and can do nothing but watch in horror as her captors begin unpacking surgical tools._

_The man on her left inspects a scalpel in the bright lights and when he begins to cut her belly open, she feels only cold where there should be pain. She cries as they deliver her baby. She begs them not to take her, not to hurt her. The baby wails and Peggy catches a glimpse of brown hair matted with blood and fluids before they take her away with them._

Peggy gasped and shot upright, drenched in icy sweat. She pushed the blankets aside and frantically lifted her shirt, searching for any evidence that it had been more than a horrible, horrible nightmare. She let out a relieved sob when she saw that there had been no incision.

Steve sat up and wrapped his arms around her gently. “You’re alright, Peg. We’re camped out a few miles southeast of Fort Greeves. It was just a dream.”

She nodded, though she was still crying, and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, slowly regaining control over her breathing.

“What was it?” he asked quietly, moving her into his lap so she could rest her ear against his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

She didn’t reply for a few minutes, but he waited patiently, knowing from experience that she would need time to find her voice. “Um—I—,” she sniffed and swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, “They took her.”

“Took who?” he asked.

“Our—,” she stopped and shook her head, “It wasn’t about..that place. I’m alright. I’m sorry I woke you, darling. Go back to sleep.”

Steve clicked his tongue and moved her to sit across from him, holding both of her hands tightly in his. “What happened?”

Peggy swallowed and looked down at her lap. “I think I was—well, I don’t know where I was. Hydra had me. It was some sort of medical facility and I was—they took her,” she paused and dropped his hands to wrap both arms around herself protectively, “Our baby.”

Steve eyes widened in surprise. “They—“

Peggy nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “I was tied to a table and they paralyzed me so I couldn’t stop them and…” His arms reached for her and she buried her face in his neck, tears flowing freely again. “It felt so real, Steve, I tried to remember I was dreaming but I was _there_. It happened right in front of me and there was nothing I could do to stop them.”

He hushed her and stroked her hair gently. “It was just a dream. They won’t get her, Peggy. No one will. Not ever.”

Peggy clung to him and he began to ramble on quietly about nothing in particular, providing the needed distraction for her to doze once again. She woke twice more in the night, her dreams reflecting her more usual haunting memories. Each time, Steve was there with his arms out for her and his calming voice to lull her back to sleep.

The following morning, Peggy was exhausted. She spent part of the morning throwing up behind a tree farther up the hill, and the other part desperately trying to function normally through her exhaustion. Jack was quiet for most of the morning, which suited her just fine. Steve volunteered to drive one of the trucks alongside Peggy and she pursed her lips at him, knowing he meant to do all the driving while she rested.

Jack agreed, but insisted on riding in the cab with the two of them.

Peggy almost laughed out loud. Steve shot her a warning glance and she turned the noise into a cough. It was settled.

Everyone piled in and they resumed their journey. Steve drove, Peggy next to him, and Jack on her other side. The roads were rough and the trucks were merciless on her nausea. Steve watched her carefully as she periodically bit down on her bottom lip and clenched her fists in an effort to keep from being sick. He took one hand off the wheel and pulled her into his side, covering her face from Jack’s view to give her a moment. Once she felt more in control, she scooted toward him a little more and kissed his cheek in thanks.

She stayed tucked into Steve’s side all morning, floating in and out of sleep. Steve made small talk with Jack and did the best he could to avoid the worst parts of the road for her sake.

“Is something the matter?” she heard Jack say as she woke from a particularly unrestful fit of sleep. She kept her eyes shut and her breathing steady.

“The matter? With what?”

“Carter.”

Steve hesitated. “Uh—she—it’s the nightmares. Her brain puts her back in captivity some nights. More than once last night.”

“Oh,” Jack whispered. “Yugoslovia?”

She felt Steve nod. “Mostly that, though she’s been through a few equally traumatizing things before and since we got her out of there. The—what they did to her in there—it’s fairly easy to trigger. The other things aren’t as easy to drag up. She has more control over her mind when it comes to other things. She’s a master at compartmentalizing. She’s been getting better, but the water—sometimes her shoulder—they make the nightmares come back.”

“Her shoulder?”

Peggy forced herself to remain impassive, though she was a little irritated that Jack was being so nosy.

“Oh,” Steve said, “They uh—Two close-range bullets. Almost let her bleed out before they got her any help, and even then we didn't get to her for another two weeks. Bullets we're still lodged in the bone. Took a lot of therapy to get her back to full range of motion, but sometimes when it’s cold or stormy out it bothers her.”

“That’s—awful. She never said.”

Steve chuckled. “She’s not usually one to share. That and most people don’t bother to ask.”

She decided she’d probably better wake up before Jack got too emotional over her wellbeing or pried too far and moved sleepily from Steve’s side to an upright position.

“Hey,” Steve said, reaching for her hand. She took it and smiled at him tiredly.

“Hey.”

They drove for another hour, then pulled to the side of the road to stretch and have lunch. Jack was quiet, but didn’t appear to have changed his mind about her being there. It was unfortunate he had to find out so much about her. Honestly, she knew she wouldn’t have been approved for active duty if her real service record had been given to the SSR or if she had been required to do a psych eval. This mission might be her last for a long while if he talked. She wasn’t really concerned about Li and Rodriguez. They were so busy trying to butter up her boys for autographs and the like that they hadn’t been aware of anything since the fiasco last night, which was plenty, but didn’t bother her as much as Jack’s persistant interest.

Peggy retreated into the forest as the time to pack up drew near. Fall was fast approaching and her feet crunched through the leaves that littered the ground. She found a comfortable enough looking tree and sank down to lean her back against it. Her stomach was still upset, though she didn’t feel a pressing need to vomit for the moment. She just needed a moment to gather herself before more rough roads.

Footsteps approached and she glanced up as she recognized the familiar gait. Dugan was watching her as he approached and she self-consciously drew her knees up to her chin. “Your SSR men are quite the temperate bunch,” he commented as he took a seat beside her and took out his canteen.

Peggy rolled her eyes. “Have they started fussing again? God, I knew I should have come alone.” He laughed and took a swig, then passed the canteen to her. She took a whiff and pursed her lips at him. “Whiskey? Really, Timothy, I—“

“You ain’t gonna die from a sip. The kid’ll be fine. It’s plenty watered down. And from what I can tell you fucking need it.”

She laughed and took a small sip, wincing at the burn that accompanied the strong taste. “Watered down my ass,” she accused, voice strained.

He chuckled. “It is! Three to one, I swear!”

“Three parts liquor to one part water?”

Dugan raised his hands in submission. “Alright, maybe it’s two one whiskey,” he confessed, “but honestly, Peggy, you needed it. And when we get back down to the trucks, you’ll thank me.”

Peggy groaned and got to her feet, admittedly feeling better. “What happened?”

“One of ‘em made a joke and—well, you know Steve.”

They walked back through the trees together in comfortable silence. She knew what she would find, and she kind of wanted to see it with her own eyes. The jokes her fellow Agents were fans of would not fly in present company. They emerged from the trees to find Steve standing in front of the SSR men with his arms crossed in front of him, full on Captain America style, lecturing them on the inappropriateness of their words.

“If I hear another word about it, I’ll see to it that—“

“Steve,” she interrupted, taking a few quick steps forward and pulling his arm until he followed her. She led him a few feet away and turned her back on the men. “Don’t waste your words on my account. As much as I’d love to see them getting what’s coming to them, they won’t listen once you’re out of sight. I appreciate the effort, my darling, but maybe keep the threats to a minimum. It might make things worse between Jack and—well, everyone. We need to work together on this if we’re going to complete the mission effectively.”

He chuckled softly. “Alright. Only for you.”

She smiled and stepped out of his way. “Fix it.”

Steve nodded and she watched over her shoulder as he approached the accused and began talking to them again. She seriously doubted he would back off his threats. More than likely he was just talking softer so she wouldn’t be able to hear him. She shook her head and turned on her heels to help her boys finish packing up.


	5. Chapter 5

Once they were back on the roads, the remainder of the journey went smoothly enough. The op itself, however, went absolutely wrong, as it usually did. Despite Steve’s best efforts to humanize him, Jack was back to his brooding self, much to their consternation. He argued about every little detail as they went over their infiltration plans. Peggy was particularly frustrated because she hadn’t even _tried_ to speak, but felt as though Jack was accusing her of every little security hiccup and locked door. She stood next to Steve and said absolutely nothing, though she did have plenty to say. She knew it would only make it worse and she knew from experience it was better for the team to be a _team_. Jack, however, took her very presence as disruptive and argumentative, though it was far from, and the moment Steve began snapping at him on her account, she had rested a comforting hand on his arm and walked out without another word, leaving the men to do the planning.

They found their target building almost immediately, and didn’t have any trouble getting inside, but they were only fifty feet in the door when they found first of the brainwashing equipment. The next room was filled with children’s beds, all bearing handcuffs attached to the bedposts. The first living soul they came across was a little girl no older than nine who had almost immediately tried to knife Dugan and ended up with someone’s gun. Peggy could tell she was well trained, even for someone so young. She took careful aim at Pinky and pulled the trigger, hitting Junior in the arm as he pushed his friend out of harms way. Steve and Falsworth had rushed him back to the trucks to bandage him up as the others continued on, uncovering increasingly disturbing intel. The entire facility appeared to be a conditioning program for young girls. The Russians were training an army of juvenile assassins.

Upon that realization, they'd been swarmed by enemy soldiers.

"Steve, where are you?" Peggy hissed into her radio as the enemy backed them into the boiler room. Their new scientist friend, Dr. Ivchanco took cover near Jack and Li.

"On the way back," came Steve's reply, "ran into a bit of trouble. Falsworth took one of the rovers with Junior. He should be fine in time."

"Anytime now, Timothy." The wall behind her exploded and she swore loudly.

"Am I late?" Dugan called with a laugh as he and Morita opened fire on their assailants.

"Get everyone into the truck. I'll cover you."

Dugan shook his head firmly. "Not going to happen. What would Cap say if…"

"Do as Peggy says," Steve shouted over the radio.

Peggy continued to fire as the commandos began to retreat. Jack appeared to have lost every ounce of bodily function. "Jack," she called.

No reply.

"Fucking hell," she murmured under her breath as she fired a cover shot and made a run for his side of the room, "Are you seriously going to freeze now? You're going to get us all killed."

Jack stared at her blankly and she shoved him toward the hole in the wall.

" _Go,"_ she ordered.

He went.

Peggy heard the debris behind her shift and turned to see Steve. “Need a hand?"

She shook her head in amusement as he began firing alongside her. "I could think of a few things I could use a hand with, darling, but none of them involve this much company," she teased as he grinned at her from behind his shield.

They held the enemy back easily, picking them off one by one in a familiar rhythm. As the inflow of soldiers turned into a trickle, Peggy took a moment to gather herself. The feeling of dread she’d had all morning was still niggling at the back of her mind. She turned to double check the identities of the fallen soldiers, then glanced around behind her, then back at the enemy, trying to place the feeling.

“Feels good to be back at it, doesn’t it?” Steve commented. She laughed and opened her mouth to reply.

Suddenly she knew. Wet. She felt—

Steve glanced over at her in concern, but she raised a finger to stop him and sank down behind a short containment wall, a fading smile still on her lips. Pain began building in her abdomen and her gun clattered loudly as it dropped to the floor. Steve kept the soldiers at bay and a close eye on Peggy as she sucked in two deep breaths and vomited.

"Peg?"

She forced a smile without meeting his eyes and pressed both hands into her abdomen. He immediately dropped his post and rushed to her side, "Peggy? What's wrong?"

She shook as she removed her gloves and dragged two fingers across the inseam of her tactical pants, praying she was wrong. They came away stained red with her blood. She looked up at him in fright.

“Fuck.”

"What's keeping you two? We've got places to be!"

Steve cupped her cheek in his hand and fixed her with a look she understood perfectly. Peggy snatched up her gun and rose unsteadily to her knees to fire another round of shots over the wall. Luckily for them, their enemy had realized they were easy targets for she and Steve and were wisely keeping their distance.

"Go. We'll meet you on the road."

"Leave without you?"

"Code yellow. Just get everyone out safely." Dugan didn't reply, but the message was clear. "Come on, Peg," Steve urged, pulling her behind his shield and toward the open exit.

They found cover behind an outcropping of rock a few hundred yards away and Peggy leaned heavily against a large boulder. "We should be alright for a while," Steve whispered.

She doubled over, tears spilling down her flushed cheeks. "Steve," she gasped sharply, digging a fist into her abdomen—god, the pain was worse than she remembered—, "I can't--"

He cupped her face in both hands and kissed forehead. "Tell me what we're dealing with," he requested quietly.

The words strained around the lump of despair and fear in her throat, "We need to get to the truck. I don't know how far I can make it before—"

Steve nodded confidently and wiped at the tears on his cheeks. "Okay. We'll figure this out. We should keep going."

Peggy nodded and he offered her his hand, which she took gratefully.

"DumDum, get Ischencov and the SSR men in route and come back around for us. The Soviets aren’t going to like us taking their man. Best to get him safely in the air before they start looking."

"Is she—?”

Peggy reached for her receiver and huffed back as they dodged through the trees, " _She_ can hear you, Timothy. You heard the Captain—hop to it.”

Steve bent over to press a kiss to her head as they continued their light jog.

He made her stop after another few hundred yards and drink some water. She grimaced and argued, but eventually gave in, barely managing to keep it down. The pain increased gradually.

"We can stop near the road and wait," he offered as she placed her hands on her knees and sucked in a few deep breaths, refusing to quit.

"I can keep going," she insisted ignoring the way her hands shook.

"I know you can," he said confidently, then more sobered, "but I think stopping would be a good idea."

She was a little relieved at that and they reduced their pace to a slow walk. The road appeared after a few more minutes and Steve radioed their location to the Howlies. Peggy was a little surprised when the trucks roared to a stop and she spotted Jack still with them.

He looked like he had overcome his little spell. More than likely he was here to find some evidence of her making a mistake so he could lord it over her head.  Not that she had much of a mind to care.

She was immediately surrounded by her boys, each practically hysterical with concern. She waved them off faintly, feeling lightheaded, and Dugan helped Steve boost her safely into the bed of the truck where she promptly collapsed onto her back amid more fussing.

"I hate you all," she declared firmly.

Steve leaped up beside her and began hurriedly unstrapping her utility belt and weapon holsters, handing them all up to Dugan as he went.

"Got a second plane on standby. We'll be there in ten."

"Make it five."

Dugan paled, but nodded and shouted for the boys to step on it. The truck lurched forward as Steve helped Peggy sit up and tucked her under his arm, ever increasing waves of pain rendering her useless for the majority of the drive.

Jack kept demanding to know what had happened. Not a word was uttered in reply as the truck tore through the dirt roads toward the landing strip.

"Was she shot?" he asked as they pulled off the dirt road and onto a paved runway, growing more and more irritated.

"No," Steve answered finally.

The commandos sprang into action as the trucks lurched to a stop next to the waiting plane, unloading gear and equipment quickly and silently. Steve immediately settled Peggy in the seat farthest from the others and threw a blanket around her shoulders.

"No blanket," she mumbled, sweat beading across her brow even as she shivered violently.

He pulled it back off, but left it in the seat next to her so it would be handy. "Drink some water." He knelt down in front of her with a canteen but she shook her head. Steve ran a hand over his face and through his hair, bordering on hysteria. 

"Steve," she said quietly, resting a shaky hand on his arm, "We got here."

He nodded and turned his attention to securing their packs for takeoff. She didn't have to look to know Jack was watching her—likely wearing a look of disgust and annoyance. Her assumptions were proven not a moment later.

"Of course this would happen," he muttered just loudly enough for her to hear.

"Excuse me?"

Peggy glanced up to see Jack turn to face Steve, his frustrations over the last few days ready to come out full force. "Come on, Captain. Can you really look me in the eye and tell me it was a good idea for Carter to be here?"

Steve was fuming. "Agent Thompson, Peggy Carter is the finest agent, soldier, leader, code breaker, and tactician alive. You are lucky to have her."

"She's a  _woman_ ," Jack shot back. "and clearly not fit for field work. This mission would have—"

“Failed," Steve interjected, clenching his fists, "and you would have died. She has saved your life more than once, don't forget. Show some goddamn respect."

"I could have managed on my own, thanks all the same. We're boarding a backup plane, separated into two groups, because for some reason God only knows—"

"Oh, do you feel left out, Jack?  _She's having a fucking miscarriage.”_

"Oh my God,  _stop_ ," Peggy interrupted hoarsely from her seat, " _God_ —just— _stop_. _Please_."

Steve balled his fists and returned to her side, ignoring Jack completely and concentrating instead on making her as comfortable as possible. He gathered her curls away from her face and neck and tied them back with practiced ease as she gripped the material at his hip tightly in one fist and braced herself on the next seat with the other.

"Drink something." Steve said again as their plane lurched forward, earlier outburst forgotten.

Peggy put her head in her hands and ignored him, all her willpower focused on breathing through the pain. As soon as the plane was aloft, she abandoned her seat in favor of the floor and Dugan and Pinky hung makeshift curtains to give her and Steve a little privacy.

Peggy clung tightly to Steve's hand.

"Hey," he whispered, "come here."

She sat back and allowed him to unzip her combat suit.

"Better?" he asked as the sleeves fell away, leaving only a thin white cotton vest and her brassiere.

Peggy nodded and he pulled her into his side.

"You know what I was thinking?" Steve asked as he brushed her sweat-dampened hair out of her face.

She hummed and opened her eyes tiredly to look at him.

"I was thinking when we get back to New York, I could talk Phillips into letting us stay under the radar for a while."

Peggy's face brightened slightly. "Wouldn't that be lovely?" 

He smiled and brushed a damp rag across her forehead. "I think so. We could go somewhere away from it all. Start again. I mean I know the war is still on and all, but it feels close to the end and—"

She closed her eyes again and winced. "I know. I'm looking forward to it, darling."

Steve spoke to her in soft whispers for the next three hours; through the pain and long after it was all over and her chest heaved with heartbroken sobs she could no longer hold in.

He cried with her.

“Let's get you changed," he suggested as her breathing began to even out again.

She sat up numbly and waited as he dug around in his pack for one of his spare shirts and her spare combat pants. He passed his canteen to her and she accepted it, staring into it like she wasn't sure what it was for. Steve guided it to her lips and she swallowed a mouthful before pushing it away and resuming her absentminded gazing.

He pulled her shirt over her head and helped her into his tee. It was too big, but she didn't much care about her modesty for the moment.

“Stand?"

Peggy obeyed and he knelt in front of her, pressing a loving kiss to her navel before helping her shed her pants and get clean, then replacing them with the fresh pair. Steve began cleaning up and she lay across their seats and shut her eyes, a familiar, overwhelming wave of loss crashing over her.

She heard Steve push past the curtain and everyone start talking at once. He hushed them and said something she couldn't quite hear over the roar of the engine. Another minute went by before he returned. She opened one eye and he held out an orange.

Peggy was so surprised, she sat up partway.

"Where the  _fuck_  did you find that in an active war zone?"

He sat next to her head and began to peel the fruit, showering her with the refreshing scent. "It doesn't matter where I found it, only that you eat it."

She rested her head in his lap and accepted one segment, eyeing it hesitantly.

"You need it."

Fresh tears burned in her eyes and she covered her mouth with one hand. "I'm so sorry, Steve."

He bent over her face and brushed his fingers along her jawline. "It's not your fault," he reminded her, "There is nothing that could have been done. What's important is that you're alright and that we're together."

She nodded and dropped her hand. "I love you."

It was then that Pinky and Dugan pulled down the partition. Jack was staring, no doubt she looked a mess. She was exhausted.

Steve watched her eat one and one half sections of her orange before she couldn't handle any more.

"Whoa, whoa," he said gently as she pressed a hand over her mouth and tried to sit up, "easy does it." He helped her up and rubbed small circles into her back as she fought the urge to vomit. "Hey, DumDum, you got any more water up there?" he called.

Dugan tossed him two canteens filled with fresh water and Steve reached for his bag, fishing out a rag and wetting it quickly. Peggy sighed in relief as he pressed it to her forehead, and she fumbled around blindly for his free hand.

"You should get some rest," he whispered next to her ear. She nodded and lay back down, the roar of the engines and Steve's presence lulling her into a deep, dreamless sleep. He woke her when they were ready to land and helped her tired fingers find her seatbelt buckle.

Li and Rodriguez were waiting as they all filed onto the runway and Jack announced they would be reporting their findings to the rest of the office the following morning and they should take the meantime to get caught up on sleep and prepare their notes.

Steve and Peggy stayed behind to bid a somber farewell to the commandos before making their way to a cab and finally collapsing into their very own bed, holding onto each other desperately as they drifted off to sleep.

 

\-----

 

Peggy walked into the SSR office the next morning with her head held high, determined to be present for the debriefing.

Jack spilled his coffee in surprise as she walked past him. She pretended not to notice him stand and follow her to her desk. He stood in front of it, waiting as she sat down slowly, body protesting. Peggy waited for a moment, then sighed tiredly when he didn't move.

“You shouldn't be here."

"What do you want, Jack?" she asked softly, not meeting his eyes.

"I wanted to apologize."

She looked up at him in surprise. "Pardon?"

Jack sighed and shook his head. "I was out of line multiple times. We couldn't have done it without your help." He paused and Peggy was about to stop him, but he continued awkwardly, "And I'm sorry about… you know."

She mustered a small smile and looked down at her hands. "Thank you, Jack. If you wouldn't mind keeping it to yourself," she said, "It's just that Steve and I--"

Jack held up a hand in understanding. "Sure thing, Carter."

"Jack, get your team into the conference room. Let's get going."

He nodded to the chief and signaled to his team with both arms, providing Peggy with enough cover to rise to her feet without anyone seeing her wince.

She smiled inwardly at that little favor. Perhaps he wasn't so terrible after all.


End file.
